Super

Here is another one from my teenage years. This was me on a good day I guess when my feistier side was showing through, even still I keep referring to myself a little or mini, words I chose to use because feeling small meant there was less of me to be torn apart or picked at.

A little superwoman in disguise,
A little Superchick of the skies,
A little girl low on confidence,
Trying to find her feet again.
A mini person on the land,
Who could do anything she wanted,
But who was squashed,
By those who were her friends.

But now she’s even more than before,
She’s better than them,
Those who were her friends,
She’s a little Superchick of the skies,
A little superwoman in disguise.

Inside My Head

This is a poem I wrote when I was around 14 or 15 years old. I have edited it a little here, but I wanted to keep it as close to the original as I could.

Inside my head,
There’s a perfect world
A world I created,
The world I love.
It’s better than the one I actually live in,
I wish I could live inside my imagination.
Instead of in this,
Most horrible of worlds.
Inside my head,
Anything can happen,
Good or bad,
Nice or not.
But you see, it’s all mine,
You can’t ruin it.
Because you will never find it,
It’s inside my head
And that’s where it will stay.

Fake Middle Class

A term you made for yourself,

Looking down on us

Because we don’t have your ‘standards’,

I’m not as fussy as you,

I don’t want that silver spoon,

I worked hard to be here,

And your judgement is unfounded,

Because you had the same beginnings I did.

I don’t care for your finer things,

Importance put on material possessions,

I don’t have the money,

Or the inclination for it.

I want to be out there,

Seeing the world,

Not trapped in my house,

By all your middle-class priorities.

Invisible

I’m saying things,
But you don’t hear me,
It’s not that you don’t understand,
You just don’t want to hear it.

It’s not my fault,
That my opinion doesn’t match yours,
Or that I was born a woman,
But you ignoring me, is your fault.

I don’t even know that you realise,
How invisible you can make me feel,
With your white male privilege,
That you claim you don’t have.

It’s bad enough I have to endure this,
Out in the real world,
But I expected more from friends,
Who have been outcast too.

This is meant to be a safe place,
Free from attack or judgement,
Yet you still treat me like I’m less than,
And my opinion just doesn’t count.

I might as well be screaming,
For all you seem to notice me,
Because I will never give up fighting,
I just didn’t expect to have to fight you too.

Slipping

I can feel myself slipping
Wth nothing to do
And nothing to focus on
All the bad things come back

Once I start working again,
It will all be ok, won’t it?
I just need something to do
A project to keep my mind busy

It’s so easy to fall
When all you’re doing is killing time
Between different projects
A lull in your life

With no physical activity
Or mental exercise to speak of
My mind races with all the mistakes
Or regrets I should have

But the fact is, I am happy
Even though things seem blank right now
And my mind is preparing for a war
I know I won’t slip and fall this time
Because I fought and won before.